


Romeo's Juliet

by masterroadtripper



Series: Best We Can [12]
Category: Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Disabled Character, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Language Processing Disorder, M/M, Period Typical Attitudes, Period-Typical Homophobia, Sign Language, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:06:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24596488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/masterroadtripper/pseuds/masterroadtripper
Summary: After Stripes and Knocker came to live at the Lodging House for good, Romeo and Stripes gradually start to realize that their feelings for each other expend out of the realm of friends and into something more dangerous to acknowledge in the late 1800s.A sequel to Hawking the Headlines
Relationships: Crutchie/Jack Kelly, Morris Delancey/Romeo, Sarah Jacobs/Katherine Plumber Pulitzer, Spot Conlon/Racetrack Higgins
Series: Best We Can [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1555765
Comments: 1
Kudos: 39





	1. Cotton Wool (Romeo and Stripes)

Softly reading out loud from Stripes’s copy of Robin Hood, Romeo could feel the moment that the taller boy had stopped reading along with the book and started looking at him. Romeo knew that if he looked over at Stripes, he’d singlehandedly shatter whatever little bubble of peace that they’d built on Romeo’s bunk, but he just had to do it. He had to see if Stripes was actually looking at him.

Turning his head, Romeo confirmed that yes, Stripes was looking at him, a small smile painted across his lips, brown and blue eyes slightly unfocused. With a shake, Stripes seemed to realize that he had been caught and quickly looked down at his hands, cheeks darkening to a shake of pink that Romeo usually only saw when he embarrassed himself.

Usually, Stripes hadn’t actually managed to do anything that would make anyone else think any less of him, it just seemed like whatever fears he had from his time living with his uncle would suddenly kick back into overdrive and suddenly he could do nothing right in his own eyes.

Resting his hand on Stripes’s arm, the right one closest to him, he got the taller boy to look at him before saying, “hey, are you okay?”

Stripes managed a small nod before looking down at his own hands again, making motions that Romeo figured were signs, but not big enough for him to actually read. Like a whisper that was just a little too low to hear.

“Stripes, you have to make them bigger, remember?” Romeo said, putting his own hands under Stripes' face since he seemed to not want to look up anymore.

With a frown, he remembered what Stripes’s brother, Knocker, had told him back when he was just learning their sign language. That if Stripes got scared or worried, his signs would become so small and timid that they were barely recognizable. He had scared Stripes.

“Sorry,” Stripes replied, looking up at Romeo and meeting his eyes.

“Its okay. I just can’t read them as well as your brother can,” Romeo replied before adding, “so what’s wrong? You look really freaked out.”

“I’m fine,” Stripes replied, looking down and tucking his hands under his rear-end on the bed, signalling that he was done talking. Romeo wasn’t, but it wasn’t his call to make.

“Wanna keep reading?” Romeo asked.

Stripes just shrugged and so, he decided that it was worth a try to start up again. Except, the second that Romeo opened his mouth to start reading again, Stripes practically launched himself forwards in his scramble down off the bunk bed and down to the lower bunk.

By the time Romeo recovered from the shock of the very sudden movement and looked over the edge, Stripes had curled himself into a little ball on his mattress, facing the wall with his hands over his ears. Romeo felt the rock of guilt settling low in his chest. He’d caused Stripes to freak out. If he’d just ignored the fact that he wasn’t paying attention, they wouldn’t be in this mess in the first place.

If Romeo could just ignore the bad feelings he had about Stripes that made him compulsively want to look at him, then they wouldn’t be in this mess either. You weren’t supposed to feel that way about your best friend. You weren’t supposed to feel that way about another male. It was wrong and Stripes would be so disgusted if he found out. Everyone would. He’d get thrown in jail. Romeo knew it.

Sometimes, he heard whispers about what Jack and Crutchie “got up to” up on the roof in the summer months. But it couldn’t be true. Romeo knew it. It was impossible. Jack liked Katherine and Crutchie liked that Sarah dame that came around every now and then. Right? Of course. They would go on dates. “Double dates” Davey would announce with a laugh. So it was impossible. The guys were just looking for a laugh. Which they would get if Romeo kept making eyes at Stripes.

He needed to keep his gaze to himself. Find himself a girl and move on. Yeah. That was what he had to do.

* * *

Everything was too loud. It sounded like someone had turned on one of the band saws from the docks and was running it right beside his head. He knew Romeo just wanted to help, but he’d just gotten caught staring at his best friend. Which was wrong in so many ways and Stripes knew it. He really did.

He wanted to ask Race about what he should do, though, at the same time, he bet Race would just punch him in the face for bringing up that kind of topic. It had only been a couple weeks since Stripes had woken up before the bell and had seen Spot, who sometimes stayed the night in the empty bunk above Race’s bed, on the same bed as Race. Sure, at the time it had been a little startling, but he’d recovered quickly. Ever since, he’d wanted to figure out a way to bring it up - what he’d seen - but there had just never been the right opportunity that wouldn’t put either of them in danger. So Stripes said nothing.

Instead, curled into a ball on his bunk, Stripes tried to focus on breathing in for four counts and out for the same amount. He hadn’t really done anything wrong, per se. He’d just been caught staring at Romeo. He could say that he’d been staring at the wall behind Romeo’s head. Anyone with a pair of eyes would know that that was a lie, but it was a lie that Stripes was willing to make.

It was just that, the longer he’d look at Romeo for, the more he wanted to do something with the smaller boy that could get him in some serious trouble. He’d never felt the way about Romeo that he’d ever felt towards any girl he’d ever known, regardless of how close they were. The way that Romeo smiled at him while they were in line or the way that his arm tingled whenever they bumped into each other while selling. That was something that Stripes wondered if he'd ever feel with anyone other than Romeo.

Before he’d come to live at the Lodge with the Newsies, he’d made some questionable decisions while simply doing exactly what Weisel had asked him and his brother to do. That was undeniable and the vast majority of those decisions that Stripes would take back in a heartbeat if he could. The last thing that Stripes wanted to do was make another decision that he would later come to regret. He didn’t think that he would regret it, but he didn’t want something to happen that could not be reversed.

Stripes heard the bunk creek and turned to look over his shoulder. He saw Romeo climbing down and he desperately tried to pull his hands down from his ears but couldn’t when all it did was cause the noise of the rest of the bunkroom to filter back into his head and make everything hurt again. He was sick and tired of not being able to have fun with the other guys after a long day of selling out on the streets. Instead, he spent his evenings trying to not let his brain violently explode from the inside.

“Can I sit here?” Romeo asked once he jumped down to the ground beside Stripes’s bunk. Stripes managed a nod slightly, still unwilling to pull his hands down from his ears.

“Too loud?” Romeo asked again.

Stripes nodded again before turning his face sideways and mushed his face down into the blanket that was folded under his cheek. He felt Romeo stand up again, but Stripes didn’t look back towards him. Maybe he’d finally drove Romeo away for once and for all. Serves him right, Stripes thought to himself, everyone but Oscar left eventually.

* * *

“Jack, can I ask youse a question?” Romeo said, pulling himself up with his arms on Jack and Crutchie’s bunk so he could see over the edge. Jack was sitting cross-legged on his mattress, sketch pad on his lap and graphite smudged across his features and fingers.

“Always,” Jack said, looking up from his drawing for just a moment.

“Do youse gots any of those cotton wools?” Romeo asked, remembering how once his father had put them in his ears when Romeo’s little sister had been crying all night. Before...before the accident. Romeo shook his head a little, trying desperately to forget that in favor of thinking of how horrible Stripes looked, shaking like a leaf on his bunk.

“I aint fink so, sorry kid. Maybe ask Motha Martha, she gots ta have some,” Jack said before turning back to his drawing and Romeo took that as his signal that he was done talking.

Thankfully, Mother Martha wasn’t only still awake, but also had cotton wool, so as Romeo ran back upstairs with the two little white balls in his hands, he felt a sense of accomplishment.

Tapping on Stripes’s shoulder, Romeo watched as a pair of brown and blue eyes looked over a boney shoulder back at his beggingly. Like he was pleading with Romeo to make all the noise stop. He couldn’t, but he did have the next best solution.

“Can you sit up?” Romeo asked, making sure Stripes was actually watching as he formed the signs on his hands.

Thankfully, Stripes answered with a small nod. Pulling his hands away from his head, he used them to push himself to sitting and straightening his frame from where it was curling around himself.

“This will help,” Romeo signed, holding out the balls of cotton wool. Instead of taking them, Stripes just stared at them like he had no idea what Romeo was expecting him to do with them. Like they were threatening him in some way.

“Can I help you?” Romeo asked.

“Yeah,” Stripes said, finally signing something back instead of just nodding and giving him monosyllabic grunts.

“Alright, hold still,” Romeo said.

Rolling one of the balls between his fingers, Romeo reached out with the other hand to place it on Stripes’s cheek. His very warm, soft and angular cheek. Romeo closed his eyes for a second before pushing a clump of shaggy brown hair back from his face and exposing one of his ears. Gently pushing the cotton wool into it, Romeo realized the exact second that he’d muffled the noise of the bunkroom when Stripes’s eyes widened and looked towards him like he’d hung the moon or discovered a cure for sugar sickness.

“C’mon, turn your head so I can do the other side,” Romeo signed quickly and watched thankfully as Stripes followed his instructions.

Once the second piece of cotton wool was in place, Stripes leaned back, his tall lanky frame stretching out across his bunk easily and leaning into the wall behind them with a smile spread across his face. Romeo wondered how no one had thought of this before.

“Thanks Romeo,” Stripes signed, the smile not falling from his features, holding on longer than it usually did, “You’re the best, you know that right?”

Romeo could only smile in reply. Maybe he could postpone his search for a girl for just a little longer.


	2. The Notebook

“C’mon boys,” Jack shouted into the bunkroom as everyone was getting ready to head out for morning sell, “Mother Martha needs them blankets for tha’ washin’. Gets ‘em off youse beds fast.”

Acknowledging that they’d heard him in a chorus of affirmative sounds jumbled together, Jack walked down his row while tucking his warm sweater into his pants. Approaching Stripes and Romeo’s bunk, Jack wanted to make sure that Stripes had actually understood what he had said. Though, he noticed, with a smile, that the tall brown haired boy with so little meat on his bones was adding his blankets off his mattress to the pile at the end of the row. Romeo likely told him, Jack thought with a smile.

Ever since Jack had gotten Romeo and Charlie to walk Stripes back to the lodging house that first night he’d stayed with him, he and Romeo had been practically inseparable. Even worse than Les and Patch at times. If Jack had to guess, he bet that the connection was due to the fact that Romeo had picked up on Stripes’s hand-language at an increasingly rapid pace and therefore was able to effectively communicate with him. Aside from his older brother and Specs, no one else had been able to pick up so much so quickly.

Watching the two speaking for a little longer, Jack was about to force himself to turn around and finish getting ready when Stripes managed to knock his bag from his uncle’s house onto the floor, the contents spilling out in every direction. From his vantage point a little ways away, he watched as a small black notebook flopped open and slid under Stripes’s bottom bunk, out of sight from the tall newsie. When he didn’t retrieve it, Jack made a mental note to grab it and keep it safe until it could be returned in private later that day. He figured that it wasn’t something Stripes wanted a big deal to be made out of in the middle of the bunkroom, so Jack turned around to find his shoes.

* * *

Jack grabbed the notebook on his way out the door, making sure to take his time. Reaching under Stripes’s bunk, he grabbed the opened notebook and as he pulled it free, he noticed that it had opened to a drawing. A drawing of a face that bore a startling likeness to Romeo himself. Jack knew that Stripes could draw, but he really didn’t know he was this good at it. Snapping the book shut when Jack realized that he’d just seen something he never expected to see, he gently slid it into the pocket of his coat.

He’d always had his suspicions that Stripes and Romeo liked each other much in the same way that he and Charlie did, but never once said anything out of fear of being wrong and opening himself up to a world of trouble. Now, either Stripes had an incredibly vivid imagination or he’d actually seen Romeo like how he was sketched in the drawing in Jack’s pocket. Regardless, he needed to sit the taller boy down and talk with him about not being more careful with his notebook. Jack hid his behind a loose wall panel just beside his bunk for a reason.

* * *

“Romeo, can I’s use a piece a’ paper?” Jack asked as they waited in line at the distribution offices, a light dusting of snow beginning to fall from the clouds. He really wished that Weisel’s newly hired goons would move at a quicker pace so they could get out on the streets before all the fancy business people were scared inside by the weather. That and he didn’t want Stripes and Knocker to freeze sitting on the retaining wall, waiting for Romeo and Buttons to buy them their papers for the day. Hiding from their uncle still. Perpetually.

“Sure fing Jack!” Romeo said, pulling a notebook out of his pants that was just about the same size as the one that he’d found under Stripes’s bunk. Gently removing a piece from it, the black-haired newsies asked, “youse needs tha’ graphite too?”

“Yeah, if youse don’ mind,” Jack replied as Romeo was already in the process of handing it over to him. He took it and slowly but surely began to write out what he wanted to say. It was a labour as Jack found that his hand, which was more than capable of drawing whatever it pleased, shook and twisted in odd ways the second he decided to try to get it to form lettering.

“Youse writin’ somefing ta Stripes?” Romeo asked, curiously peeking over Jack’s shoulder. Turning and looking back at Romeo who was now entirely too close for Jack’s comfort, he realized the flaw in his plan. Well, one of the many flaws in his plan.

Stripes wasn’t the easiest person on the planet to get to cooperate. When he decided that he wasn’t going to do something, there was not a single person that Jack knew that could get him to whatever it was. Not even Romeo or his older brother, it seemed. The only way that Stripes’s attendance to the conversation Jack wished to have with him was more likely to occur was including Romeo.

That, and Stripes still had yet to learn how to speak or listen. It wasn’t that he couldn’t do either. No, it seemed that he could do it really well, in fact. The snare was that Stripes couldn’t actually hear the words and just the sounds that people were making, and anything he said was just random repetitions of statements that he’d heard often throughout the years. Most often, mean statements that Stripes had heard his uncle Weisel shouting at either him or his brother.

Romeo was a crucial part of this plan. Without him, it could and likely would go haywire in less than a minute. However, the one thing that Jack was never good at was phrasing things eloquently. That was Davey’s job. Especially at union meetings. And this certainly felt similar to one right now.

“Yeah,” Jack replied.

“Wha’s it sayin’?” Romeo asked, going on his tiptoes to try to look over Jack’s shoulder yet again.

“Tonight, I gots ta talk wif youse and Stripes. Afta supper, I want youse ta meets me at tha’ supplies room, okay?” Jack said, spilling out what his mangled excuse for a paper note said in a significantly shorter period of time than it would have taken to finish writing it. Crumpling it in his hand to hide his sad excuse for handwriting from Romeo’s prying eyes, Jack shoved his hands into his pockets and glared at the snow that was falling at their feet.

“Is it bad boss?” Romeo asked, his chocolate brown eyes wide and terrified.

“No Romeo, we’s jus gotta talk, is all. Okay? Can youse tell Stripes please? My writin’ really aint all tha’ good,” Jack replied, trying to maintain whatever composure he could have had left in front of Romeo. He knew that his guys looked up to him and his various quirks and inadequacies, Jack was entirely capable of hiding from them most times.

“Sure fing boss,” Romeo chirped, a smile crossing his face yet again, though Jack could tell it was fake. Pasted on. Romeo was scared and it was Jack’s fault. That didn’t make him feel any better.

* * *

Making sure that Romeo was ready to be translating for Stripes, Jack pulled the notebook from his pocket and handed it to Stripes. The look on his face when he saw what Jack was holding was enough to make Jack realize that Stripes, alongside Romeo, was now terrified.

“This fell unda’ youse bed this mornin’,” Jack said, letting Stripes take it and hold it up to his chest tightly, his eyes darting around the room like he was looking for an escape.

“Whens it fell, it landed open ‘nd I saw one of youse drawin’s,” Jack continued, though he truly wondered how much actually made it to Romeo because the small black-haired boy seemed to stop translating the words into sign about halfway through.

“I aint ‘ere ta get eitha of youse in trouble, I jus’ wanted ta say tha’ youse gots ta be more careful if youse gonna keeps drawin’ them pictures like the one I saw,” Jack said, digging his fingers into his thighs to prevent himself from shaking.

“Why youse...why youse aint mad ‘bout this,” Romeo asked, his voice jumping an octave and getting squeaky. He looked like he was about five seconds from bursting into tears. Beside him, Stripes’ head was jerking back and forth, looking between Romeo and Jack, but he could tell that the taller boy wasn’t actually able to focus on either of them. They were both scared out of their minds.

“Cause it aint wrong, what youse boys feels for each otha’. It aint, I promise. It is all them otha’ people tha’ are thinkin’ wrong but this aint somefing youse can be careless ‘bout. Youse gots ta hide tha’ book and be real careful, yeah? Cause jus’ cause it aint, don’t mean youse aint gonna get in trouble cause of it,” Jack said slowly, watching as both their eyes went wide, “Youse gets good at hidin’ it, okay? Cause I aint neva wanna see eitha’ of youse as front page news.”

* * *

Sneaking onto Charlie’s bunk after lights out, he pulled his love closer towards him.

“Youse was right,” Jack whispered.

“About what?” Charlie replied, “I’m right ‘bout lotsa fings.”

Jack imagined that Charlie was cracking a massive lopsided grin right about now, his eyes glinting in the moonlight and looking more blue than usual.

“Bout Stripes and Romeo,” Jack said.

“Knew it,” Charlie replied, snuggling in closer to Jack’s frame.

He wished that it was the summer again and they could be alone on the rooftop again, and not trapped inside the lodging house. Jack had been trapped inside too many buildings for too much of his life and he always hated the winter. Charlie made it better though. All Jack hoped now was that Stripes and Romeo could lean on each other the same way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY PRIDE MONTH 🏳️🌈   
> (if it doesn't show up properly, that is a pride flag)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tws: sh, implied past suicide attempt

The metal was cold underneath Stripes’s legs as he sat down next to Romeo. The sun was setting and casting an eerie orange glow across the buildings to either side of them. He knew that Romeo hated sunsets, ever since that first time he’d come back to the lodging house and Romeo had started freaking out a little, he’d figured it out. But

Stripes had never asked why because he figured it was something personal that Romeo didn’t want to talk about. Stripes never talked about his uncle or his parents with Romeo. It never made him feel very good when he did. Insides twisting and eyes threatening to spill over with tears, Stripes never wanted anyone to see him like that. It proved that he was weak. Much too weak to handle the things he’d have to do in his life, and the last thing he wanted to prove to Romeo that he wasn’t able to deal with his own stuff. Besides, his past wasn’t even that bad. Aside from the scar across his back, he was fine. He had nothing to talk about. So Stripes didn’t. Never said a thing about his uncle. And Romeo never said anything about his past either.

Out here on the fire escape was the only place they could safely talk away from the prying eyes of his older brother and the listening ears of the other boys. Stripes was pretty sure he wasn’t going to be able to do much talking tonight though. The headline had been good today and so Stripes had to try to learn a new phrase and had likely spent all morning messing it up. His brain was exhausted and the ringing in his ears was loud enough to drown out the sounds of the city that never slept.

“Are you okay?” Stripes asked, pulling his hands from the pockets of his navy blue coat and letting his hands speak for him. His brain was just too tired to try to not only say any of the right words, but listen for their answer. Sitting in the silence of steps, his leg warming with the heat of Romeo’s body, Stripes turned towards the smaller boy and tried to crack a smile for him.

“Just the light,” Romeo said before leaning to the side and pressing his face into Stripes’s arm, hiding it from the rays of the setting sun. Stripes could feel Romeo’s arms holding onto his tight. Likely tight enough to leave a bruise of some sort, though, Stripes really didn’t mind. He’d gotten worse - much worse - from his uncle and Romeo probably didn’t even realize how tight he was holding on.

“Mmm,” Stripes hummed. Acknowledging that he’d seen what Romeo had said, but with both hands now holding onto the smaller boy, it was impossible to reply properly. Running one hand through Romeo’s hair and wrapping the other around his shoulder, they sat in silence on the roof until the sun was finally below the building across the street from the lodge. As Stripes felt Romeo’s grasp on his arm loosen a little, they sat a little more upright on the fire escape.

“Sorry,” Romeo said, looking at Stripes with a look so forlorn that Stripes felt his own heart breaking a little. He just didn’t know how to help Romeo when he was obviously remembering something so sad that it was hard to talk about.

“It's okay. I don’t mind,” Stripes said, pulling his hands down a little so they could speak, “You know, next time we don’t have to talk out here. We can talk up on your bunk or something.”

“There's a reason we talk out here, it's okay,” Romeo replied with a pained smile. Stripes hated to see how the smaller boy was in so much pain and he wished that he could take all of it. If he could, Stripes would take all of the pain Romeo felt and deal with it himself. Romeo didn’t deserve to suffer.

Even though Stripes hadn’t felt quite so helpless now as he had before he’d slept under the dock cranes that one night, he felt like he had to fill that void with something else. With his left hand, the one not wrapped around Romeo’s shoulders, Stripes gripped his left thigh hard enough to feel little pricks of pain race up his leg. He knew that the marks would bruise and join the collection of faded ovals covering the surface of both his legs, but Stripes didn’t care. The pain filled the void and that was all he wanted.

From beside him, Stripes felt Romeo’s arms moving but didn’t actually catch what he said. Looking over at Romeo, the smaller boy looked concerned so Stripes asked him to repeat what he’d said.

“Why do you do that?” Romeo asked.

Swallowing hard, Stripes tried to focus on his signs as he took his hand off his leg and asked, “do what?”

“You’re hurting yourself,” Romeo said, “Why do you do that?”

“Are you mad?” Stripes asked, looking away and refraining from grabbing back onto his leg.

“No,” Romeo replied, grabbing one of Stripes’s hand and pulling it towards him, preventing him from grabbing onto his leg and adding to any of the bruises he’d already put there. As much as he needed to pull away from Romeo, he could see the hurt look in his eyes - knowing now what Stripes would do to himself what he got upset. When he felt like he did before he ran away the last time. Out of control.

“Why do you do it?” Romeo asked, his brown eyes lit with something that Stripes had never seen before.

He didn’t know how to answer the question. How could he explain to Romeo that he’d never once done a thing in his life that warranted him to not feel pain? He deserved to feel pain. He needed it to feel in control.

Instead of answering, Stripes shrugged and looked down at his shoes.

“You don’t have to tell me if you can’t,” Romeo said, reaching out and touching Stripes’s chin, turning his head so they were looking at each other again, “I just hate that I can’t do anything to help you.”

“You’re helping right now. You’re here with me,” Stripes argued.

“Okay,” Romeo said, leaning into Stripes arm, “doesn’t mean I like that you hurt yourself.”

“I’ll try to be better at...not doing it...okay?” Stripes replied.

“Okay,” Romeo said, cuddling into Stripes' side a little more. Wrapping an arm around Romeo’s shoulders, Stripes looked out towards where the sun had set and just let himself feel moderately happy with the warmth of one of his favourite people tucked against him.

“Hey,” Romeo signed after a couple of minutes of sitting together in pleasant silence. Pulling out the notepad that he kept in his pocket Romeo wrote on it with graphite. Passing it over to Stripes, he read it, _“How do you sign I love you?”_

“You do?” Stripes asked, dropping the paper and letting it flutter to the ground to rest in the snow below them, “you really do?”

“Yeah, of course,” Romeo said, tilting his head to the side and gently kissing the side of Stripes’s face. Looking at the smaller boy, he smiled and pulled his hands away from where they were draped around Romeo’s shoulders.

“I love you too,” Stripes signed.

“Is that how you sign it?” Romeo asked, copying the motions. It wasn’t quite right, so Stripes reached out and fixed Romeo’s hands. Letting Romeo try it again, Stripes watched and could feel the smile on his face creeping larger and larger by the second.

“I love you,” Romeo said before leaning in and planting a kiss against Stripes’s lips.

“I love you too,” Stripes said when they pulled away for a second.

That was when Stripes decided that he’d try to stop hurting himself. He didn’t think he’d be able to do it for himself - because if he could have, he would have stopped before - but Romeo wanted him to stop, so he had to try. He had to try.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is awkward and I apologize. Writers block sucks

**Author's Note:**

> 1) Stripes is the Mike Faist newsie character (when he isn't actively being Morris Delancey). I know that both characters do sing in the show (I think he may even have a line or two while he's his newsie but I'm not totally sure) but in this, the character (Morris/Stripes) has severe Combined Expressive/Receptive Language Processing Disorder (meaning that he can't understand what people are saying very well and he can't speak very well either, but can read and write) and gets very frustrated and jittery as a result. More info can be found at: https://www.additudemag.com/language-processing-disorders-recognizing-symptoms/
> 
> 2) Some of the characters that make appearances in this story are featured in other works in this series and if some of these characters are confusing you, check out some of the other stories!


End file.
